Daily Life Of A Daedric Lord
by Tabz9090
Summary: Have you ever wondered what Sheogorath does in his spare time? (Asides from the fish stick) Or what would happen if the Nine Divines went to one of Sanguine's party's? Or, generally, what a Prince of Darkness does in day-to-day life? If so, well, this story is all about that.
1. In which Sheogorath is a creep

**Chapter I: In which Jyggalag has OCD and Sheogorath is a creep. **

**Disclaimer: I own NOTHING**

**Jyggalag's POV**

"For the last time, Sheogorath, no! You are _not_ allowed to hunt down everyone I love and cherish and beat them savagely to death with a pillow! We've been over this before!"

"Aww" the Daedric Prince sighed, and went back to doing the fish stick – whatever that was. Carefully watching him out of the corner of my eye, I deemed it safe enough to leave the room and enter the kitchen; my beautiful, orderly, perfect kitch-

There was a smudge on the countertop.

I barely managed to hold in my rage, as I stared at the offending material. My eye started twitching. A _smudge_?! On _my_ countertop?! Deep breaths, Jyggalag…count to ten…one…two…thr- "SHEOGORAAAAAATH!" I stormed into the other room, so angry that crystals started sprouting through the floor around me. This was the third time this week, because of that deranged fool; ever since I'd agreed to move in with him because I couldn't pay the rent on my apartment he was all "_noo, you can't survive without cheese!_" and _"Come on live a little, or I'll pluck out your eyes!*Insert creepy grin with a long, drawn out laugh*" _couldn't a Deadra Lord get any peace? The thing which irked me the most, however, was how untidy he was; everyday he would move something or track dirt into the carpet. But no-one, _no-one_, smudges my countertop. "YOU SMUDGED THE COUNTERTOP! MY COUNTERTOP!"

"Sanguine is hosting a party tonight. You will come."

His calm tone and general randomness caught me off balance. "Wha- what? No!"

"Sanguine is hosting a party tonight. You will come or I will move random objects all over the apartment and not tell you which ones." He informed me, matter-of-factly. My flushed face paled at the thought; I wasn't sure whether it was the prospect of socialising or the threat which terrified me. Let's go with the threat.

xoxOxox

Sheogorath heard that the Nine Divines would be attending the party so he made sure to look particularly "ravishing" and even "combed" his beard. I told him it looked like a rabid monkey had attacked his face, but he just stared at me for a long time and said "I see no problem with that" so I just backed away slowly into my room and closed the door, his cat-like eyes boring into my soul.

My room was small, and with dreary grey walls and a dreary grey carpet, not to mention no furniture except for a wardrobe, bed and mirror (which were all grey), in all, it was utterly amazing, and so full of life. Striding over to my wardrobe, I picked my favourite armour; it was the same shade of grey as concrete and looked similar to steel. I put it on methodically, pleased to note that there were no stains of mortals who had displeased me – unlike SOMEONE in the room next to mine. Checking myself out in the mirror I winked at my reflection "looking goood" I purred, then practiced saying "hey, I'm Jyggalag. Prince of order, at your service" in multiple ways; I wanted to make sure I was completely prepared, after all. Idly I wondered if Dibella would be there, with her straight ebony hair, beautiful blue eyes, endearing personality and perfect physique…not that I, like, _cared_ or anything. I was just…wondering, is all. Sheogorath interrupted my train of thought, however, when he barged in wearing his best regalia - a purple and gold suit, complete with staff - and declared it was time to go. "What have I told you about _knocking_?" I glared at him "umm…wait, don't tell me! Oh, oh was it…no that can't be right… Sugared cheese wheels!" he declared proudly. "I don't even…I don't…don't want to know what…" was my intelligent reply. "Anyhoo, time to go!"

That much I understood.


	2. PARTAY!

**Chapter II: PARTAY!**

**Disclaimer: I own NOTHING**

**Sorry I took so long to upload, I was playing Skyrim and forgot reality existed.**

**Sanguine's POV**

Strobe lights? Check.

Music? Check.

Food? Check.

General Fabulousness? Check.

That left just one thing. He smiled as the bell rang and the first guest arrived. It was time to party.

"WOOO!" Sanguine yelled as he dropped to his knees, the thumping drum beat of the music reverberating around the room. He couldn't hear anything over the music, but that didn't stop him from looking around for a target. He smiled as the flashing lights revealed who he guessed was Azura, so, smoothing back his hair, he sauntered over wearing a cocky grin – few women could resist the Daedric Lord's charms. "Hey baby" his words came out a drunken slur "if I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put…I'd put U and I togescher" Azura looked him up and down, then said "too late, N and O are, already" before walking off, her hips swaying slightly. Sanguine frowned; was he just rejected? He shook his head, ignoring such thoughts, she was probably just frigid, that's all.

Deciding eventually after numerous rejections to "give it a rest" as Meridia said, he shuffled off to the side with his tail between his legs, and his ego considerably smaller. How could they resist _his_ charms? He was…he was…well, _him_. Sighing, he slowly sat down. That was when the Nine Divines arrived.

Talos strode in first, prideful as ever, with Akatosh at his side. One after another the Divines swaggered in, immensely sure of themselves. Then in came Dibella, and _daaamn_. That was one hell of a girl. Jet black hair tumbled down her back, her sapphire eyes gleaming in the darkness. Unfortunately, however, just about every other guy in the room was eyeing her up as well – he would have to make his move fast if he were to beat the others. Stumbling slightly, he made his way across the dance floor, pushing away the others in his haste; that is, until he found his way blocked by Boethiah, who was arguing with Talos. "Mere mortal, get away from me – you do not deserve to even be in my presence!" the Prince of deceit was sneering. "I'm as much a God as you are! At least people are _allowed_ to worship me!" Talos was insisting, though was cut short the Daedric Prince: "Last I checked in Skyrim that wasn't the case; at least those Altmer got _something_ right." Jeering came from the crowd at this point, making the hostility between the two increase. Molag Bal laughed, and muttered to himself "yesss…let the hate flow through you." Which really did _not_ help.

Hey, I'm all down for a bit of banter, but things went a bit far when Boethiah challenged Talos to a fight to the death. Slowly I edged away to where Heremaeus Mora was…I don't know, sliming, I guess. He was nervously watching Azura as she stood in a corner, practicing sounding really pretentious; looking at the Daedric prince beside me, I went to nudge him before realizing he was a gross mass of tentacles. I put my arm down. "Got a crush, then? I'm so proud of you!"

"Uhh…" Hermy managed to say. For the demon of knowledge, he _really_ had a way with words. "Go on, talk to her! You know you want to!"

"She said if I ever go near her again, she'd burn me."

"Oh"

An awkward silence settled between us. "I'll just…go…then" I mumbled. Jeez, this party was kinda rubbish, I realized, looking around. Arkay was offering to sell coffins to anyone who listened, Talos had Boethiah in a headlock, Dibella was flirting with Clavicus Vile and Sheogorath was changing all the food I had laid out into cheese. There was only one way to salvage this party…

Alcohol.

Lots and lots of alcohol.


	3. Alcohol, baby

**Chapter 3**

**All right, I've got some questions for you; which one of the Daedric Princes (or Nine Divines) are you most like, and why? Also, if you were a Daedric lord, what would your sphere of power be?**

**Clavicus Vile's POV**

"Clavicus, I need your help" Sanguine said reluctantly, not meeting my eye. Well, this was…unusual, as Sanguine never asked me for help. Right- I had about three seconds to come up with a really smug and witty reply, showing how inferior the Prince of Debauchery was compared to me, the great and mighty Clavicus Vile, yet it had to sound sophisticated and intelligent. Or just really pretentious. Where was Azura when you needed her?

"Tell me something I _don't_ know."

To Clavicus, baby.

"Alright, whatever, just help me."

"Sure! But in return…give me your sooouuul."

"No."

"Oh. Okay" I mumbled, cheeks reddening at his curt reply. This conversation was definitely not going the way I hoped. "If you help me, I will give you a year's supply of mead. Nord mead, Black-briar mead, Honningbrew mead, mead with juniper berries mixed in, whadda you say?"

"Well…"

"Great! Let's do this." Not quite sure how to respond to that, I ended up trailing after Sanguine, as he spiked everyone's drink. Eventually I thought _what the hell? I do kind of want that mead _and helped my now ally in the heroic endeavour of getting everyone drunk.

Sanguine's plan turned out exactly as he expected; if not, better. I watched with glee as Molag Bal, the serious, generally terrifying Prince of Domination sung "AND IIIIIIII WILL ALWAYS LOOOVE YOOOOOOOOOU!" At the top of his voice to his sworn enemy, Boethiah. One thing was for sure- I would definitely be using that as blackmail, later. This party was amazing, that much was for definite. I was slightly scared though, when Julianos started pole dancing. Wait, no, I was terrified. It was all worth it, however, as Nocturnal, the mistress of shadow, started breakdancing in the middle of the floor. I swaggered up to Sanguine, the only person who was, ironically, sober, as he was playing beer pong with Stendarr, who was always letting him win and getting wasted in the process. "Some party, huh?" Sanguine nudged me, winking and generally not being very subtle. "Yeah, if anyone can actually remember it in the morning. Did you see Mara? She was slow dancing with Mehrunes Dagon." I replied, grinning. It occurred to me, though, that I hadn't seen Dibella since we spiked the drinks. "Where's Dibella? I haven't seen her since we…made the party more…interesting" "She said something about going home to read a book, that parties were bad for you. Shame." "Wow, she must have been really waste-" I was cut off by the horror that was Hermeaus Mora doing a strip tease. "Dear. God. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all" I said, unable to tear my eyes off the mentally scarring image.


	4. A night to remember, indeed

**Chapter 4**

**Molag Bal's POV**

"Oww" the pain in his head refused to go away; the party was great, yet I was seriously regretting attending. I couldn't remember most of it, however, one thing I unfortunately did recall was singing to my nemesis, Boethiah. I, Molag Bal, does not _sing _– at least, not unless I was doing the washing up. I _am_ a big fan of Taylor Swift – especially not to _that_ Daedric Prince. I just seriously hoped no-one else was sober enough to remember that…abomination. "Heeeeeeeyyy, Molag, how's that hangover? Must be pretty bad, seeing as you got _sooo_ drunk you sung to Boethiah!" Mephala breezed. Dammit.

It seemed every single Daedric Lord knew about my little… endeavour last night. Either everyone was sober but me or someone remembered it and somehow showed it to everyone else. It seemed exactly like the kind of thing only one particular Prince would do, and if not him, then maybe he could lead me to the culprit. which was why I was on my way to to see none other than the guy I drunkenly serenaded, the king of deceit, and the bloke I hated more than anyone else in the world.

Steeling myself for the stream of badly thought out insults and snide remarks, I knocked on his door. The door opened slowly as he glowered out, however, as soon as he saw me, he quickly tried to shut it. I stuck my foot between the door and wall. Wincing in pain, I gasped "I'm not here to try and destroy your High School Musical collection like last time." Suspiciously, he opened the door a little wider, and I removed my now half dead foot. "What do you want?" he snapped. "Great to see you too, Boey"

"Don't call me Boey"

"You see, Boey, I'm here because you, yes you, have been spreading the knowledge of the recent event that-"

"You mean the singing?"

"Yes."

"Why the hell would I want people to know about _that_?!" Boethiah cried. "Do you know how much I'm being made fun of?! I had to make loads of mortals fight to the death to calm down, you stupid, Vile-" It struck me then. Of course Clavicus Vile would have been the one to do it! Probably so he could strike some sort of stupid bargain with me. "Are you even listening?!" Boethiah fumed. "Not one bit! Bye!" I answered, then shut the door in his face, walking off.

On the walk there I fantasised about all the ways I would brutally murder Clavicus with a spoon, and so, by the time I arrived, I was in a fairly good mood. That is, until I had to actually talk to him. He could barely keep a straight face even talking to me. "Well, well, guess who it is, none other than the great Molag Bal! Terrifying, ruthless and also, a really bad singer. As we _all_ know."

"What do you want?"

"Well, my masque needs fixing, I want Barbas to leave me alone for a few minutes, Dibella's phone number would be great, I-"

"No. What do you want with _me_?"

"You? Absolutely nothing." He seemed completely bewildered, and I didn't think he was lying. This meant that_ I_ was left completely bewildered, however. "Why did you tell everyone about my singing, then?"

"Me? I didn't do that!" He laughed, then narrowed his eyes. "But I can tell you who knows who did" There was something in his tone which told me I wouldn't want to do whatever he was about to ask me.


End file.
